


A soldier comes home

by LCNH1



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-10-08 05:34:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17380559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LCNH1/pseuds/LCNH1
Summary: Four Kingdoms await the arrival of a warrior who could rule them all... if he so chose.





	A soldier comes home

**Author's Note:**

> A self-indulgent, free-flow fantasy drape over the day Roman Reigns returns to WWE. Most Names have been changed to protect the wrestlers. Any feedback on the world that you get a peek at is more than welcome.

They gathered, the four Kingdoms.

The red and white banners of Monraw.

The blue and silver banners of Smadowl.

The Black and Yellow banners in the Newlands.

The Purple and orange banners of Sector 205.

All were gathering at the Grand Gate, friend and foe alike, banners waving in the late morning breeze.

The Old Kings led the march, King Hunter and his bride, her brother and father walking apace. All four surprisingly silent.

The Grand Gate opened to a greater unknown, where warriors could become Kings. Where Kings could become legends. Where many became nothing more than a footnote in the storied history of the Four kingdoms.

They came from all corners when news spread of a returning soldier, whose strength and resolve had turned to legend. One who would take his rightful place as a new King, but as a King of soldiers, not a ruler.

King Hunter knew that this man was destined for such greatness. This warrior, son of warriors and from a family of warriors, surprised very few with his meteoric rise, He did not rise alone; this Prince of Warriors had two men he called brothers, a privateer and a rogue, who ran with him and fought against the many injustices of the realms, knocking heads with King Hunter himself. He'd fallen to two of these three, but they did not ask for his kingdom; they merely asked for his respect.

Now Raol Kingslayer and the Damned Darson stood side by side, each eager to see their brother come home.

The Newlands East and West rulers put aside their quarrels for the day. Tomam and Peyune's expressions were less dour than usual. They knew this was too important of a day to be spent squabbling over borders.

The Prince of Sector 205 Adahm and his general Byuma matched strides, smirking at each other over some private joke.

Hundreds gathered near the Grand Gate, and there King Hunter took the center stage. He carried something wrapped in Monraw red silk in both hands like an artifact. He stood before the gates, carefully unwrapping said artifact - a blood-red leather belt, encrusted with diamonds, rubies and obsidian, bordered in polished hematite. He raised the trophy to those assembled, and all knelt before it. He rested the trophy across his own broad shoulder as he had done in the past with other such awards, but now he held it for a more than worthy warrior.

A hush washed over the masses as the Grand Gate started to glow, first in its traditional whites and golds to signal someone returning home. This time, it slowly dimmed into a familiar dark blue; not Smadowl blue, but a few shades darker. Raol and Darson froze in place, recognizing the color and feeling the familiar crackle of thrall energies, charged from nearly a decade of wars and enhanced with each of his victories. That energy had brought King Hunter to his knees, King Reaper to one knee and still scores to settle with the landless Demon King. While all others knelt, Raol and Darson returned to their feet, jaws slack as the blue light intensified around the Gates.

A sudden crack of thunder, a seismic roar shuddered the Gate. Many looked up in anticipation and hope as a second cracking sound forced the gates to yield, slowly swinging open with a wail that fell between the voices of tormented to the trumpets of victory. In the center of the blue storm a lone figure stood, a mighty six foot five man with flowing jet black hair. He was clad in a black kevlar vest that kept his arms free, especially his heavily tattoed right arm that shimmered and crackled with that same brilliant blue energy. His black pants stained with dirt and blood, his boots worn from miles of walking and climbing. The leather gauntlet that covered his right hand creaked slightly as he closed his fist, looking to the assembly on their knees before him. His proud expression faded to worry, perhaps even guilt. He turned to King Hunter and shook his head no.

"Everyone back on their feet!" His booming voice rang against the Gates and brought everyone up from their reverance. "That's not how I wanted to be welcomed back. I am no ruling King, I am a soldier given a mission that only I could complete. My mind is clear, my heart beats strong, and the BEAST IS DEAD."

The assembled erupted in celebration of all this good news. Raol and Darson tackled their brother to the ground, or at least tried to. He caught them both and squeezed them close, his strength bearing all their weight as they lost their composure and embraced him back. Raol audibly sobbed; Darson's grip locked around Roman in overwhelming relief of his brother's return. Roman just nodded, blue-gray eyes looking to each of them as they tried to pull themselves back together. Raol couldn't help himself; his dark brown eyes blinked back even more joy as he forced a smile. Darson squeezed his eyes a few times then made a show of wiping his "Brow" from "sweating". Only now could Roman smile. His brothers were at his side. King Hunter brought the blood-stained trophy forward, placing it on Roman's shoulder. Darson showed Roman his white leather belt, and they tapped the center plates in a symbolic toast. Raol had nothing to show his brother than unabashed gratitude that Roman had survived his trials and tribulations. His gloved hands twitched a little before his left hand squeezed at Roman's shoulder while his right hand balled into a fist, thrust forward to the crowd.

Everyone started to murmur in anticipation. These brothers could reunite today. There almost wasn't a choice. Darson ran his left hand through his messy hair before raising his right fist, arm cocked and ready to swing. Roman tacitly dared him. Darson broke out into a bright, boyish smile and brought his fist forward, leaving the exact amount of space for Roman's gauntlet to land between the other extended hands.

The three hands connected, and that blue energy arced between these men, brothers in all but blood. Darson's already brilliant blue eyes glowed brighter and danced with energy. Raol's confidence nearly visible as his tear-clouded eyes shimmered in a fresh focus. Roman's blue-grey eyes flickered almost to a silver-blue glint, his tattoo almost alive with the blue energies within him.

The three looked to those assembled, and all celebrated anew. King Hunter and his family stood back and let the masses reunite with the mercenaries who challenged him, protected him, defied him, and ultimately saved this kingdom from other, darker fates.

They were the Shield. Three warriors against a world filled with injustice.

Injustice was outnumbered and outgunned.

**Author's Note:**

> .... I can't help it.
> 
> Get well soon Joe.


End file.
